The Law of Conservation of Irritation

So lately it seems like I've been playing a game of whack-a-mole with orange barrels. With sadly little actual whacking of barrels, I might add. The construction on 75 has eased a teensy bit, meaning that there are now a whole TWO lanes open instead of just one, which I thought was just lovely. Until I got to work and realized that Cass was closed between Michigan and Bagley, which means nothing to you but means to me that I can't get to my friggin' parking lot. I mean, I can, technically, because I did, and they are charging a dollar less than usual all this week for the inconvenience, but it involved driving around the block, through an alley, and over a sidewalk. (....I have a little bet with myself over which one of you is going to be a smartass about my driving first, fyi.) This is not the kind of hassle I like to deal with at eight in the morning. At eight in the morning on a Wednesday, no less, which comes after a Tuesday, which is the night I go out to Bailey's and drink two dollar beers until I remember that I have to get up and go to work in some rapidly dwindling number of hours. Wednesday commonly known in these parts as "Cranky Day," is not the day to be putting new obstacles in my path.

Grr.